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They climbed back up, restored the rug to its rightful place over the cellar door, and crept into Will’s darkened office. “Don’t worry,” Jericho said, turning on a desk lamp. “He’s giving a lecture in Connecticut today. Still trying to pay off the tax bill so they don’t close this place. Here. In the corner.”
On a side table wedged into an alcove was something Jericho had always regarded as one of Will’s many curious, slightly useless artifacts. Now, watching Memphis thread the wax cylinder into place and turn the side crank, he understood.
“These sure look old. Not even sure it’ll play. But here goes,” Memphis said, dropping the needle. The cylinder spun around, spilling out its tale in pops and hisses until, finally, an echoey, familiar voice came through the attached megaphone:
“Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson. How are you today?”
“Sister Walker?” Sam whispered.
Memphis nodded.
“Fine, thank you. And yourself, Miss Walker?”
“I’m very well, thank you. You know my colleagues, Mr. Marlowe, Miss Wasserman, and Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Yes’m. Afternoon, Sir, Miss. Uh, there gonna be more a them shots today, Miss Walker?” Mr. Johnson asked in a deep, melodic voice. He sounded shy, polite, and a little frightened.
“No, no. We don’t need your blood today.”
At the mention of blood, the boys’ eyes widened.
“What were they—” Sam started, but Jericho shushed him.
“Could you state your name and age for me, please?”
“Yes, ma’am. Guillaume Johnson. I’m eighteen years old.”
“It’s him! The Diviner she mentioned,” Jericho whispered.
“How come it’s okay when you talk but not—”
“Shhh,” Memphis pleaded. He leaned in to the megaphone, straining to hear.
“What is your height and weight? Oh, and please speak into the cone, if you will.”
“I’m six foot two inches, and I weigh one hun’erd ninety pounds.”
“Big man,” Sam said under his breath. “Big as the giant over here.”
“I heard you’re strong enough to lift a wagon full of hay bales, Mr. Johnson,” Sister Walker’s voice prompted.
“Yes, ma’am. Picked the whole back end up clean off the road so’s they could change out a cracked wheel. Held it a long time, too,” Guillaume Johnson answered. He sounded very proud.
“Can you tell us a little more about your powers?”
“Yes, ma’am. Long as I can recall, I been able to ease the passing of animals.”
“Just animals?”
Pause.
“Well, uh… just people on their way out, Miss. Like Old Gertie, all ate up with consumption and pain. I helped her sleep. The good lord done the rest.”
“Are you telling me the full truth, Mr. Johnson?”
Pause.
“I been sorely tempted, Miss Walker. Like Jesus in the wilderness. It’s hard working cotton. Very hard. Long days on a hungry belly. And the landlord, he… well, he wadn’t no good man, Miss. No, he wadn’t.”
